Magazines and Bubbles
by Copper Fire
Summary: Ficlet, one-shot. SSHP. Slytherin!Harry. During Christmas Break Severus Snape stumbles in on Harry on the process of drawing a bath. Some words are exchanged, a magazine is dropped...will anything ever be the same again? -Look at tag-along authors notes-
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter is not mine. Hogwarts is not mine. Severus Snape is not mine. Seregil, Alec, and all the characters in Stalking Darkness are not mine. I am not mine! Who the fuck is mine?

Wizard's Delight is mine. Harry in a bubbly bath is soooo very mine….lights camera action!

Ficlet, one-shot. Slytherin Harry, SS/HP.

Magazines and Bubbles

Harry stepped into the bathroom of the Slytherin house and slowly began to undress. He folded his clothes and placed them neatly into a pile before grabbing a towel and a robe to take into the bath with him. These too he folded neatly and put in a pile perched on the edge of the gigantic marble tub. Sitting down on the edge of the marble, wincing only slightly at its coldness, he turned on the tap marked '_hot_ water' and '_moderately _frothy bubbles.' Sitting there watching the pool-sized bathtub fill up, Harry's mind started to wander to thoughts of class, his schoolwork, his friends, and such things that were apt to fill a boy's mind in those days. He thought with kindness of his teachers, all but one. He thought how others thought it was odd that he was sorted into Slytherin house once he reached Hogwarts. He thought of the friends he had made here, both in his house and not. Mostly he thought about that one teacher, his head of house, and how he had treated Harry with very well-concealed disdain and not so well-concealed ignorance. He was so apathetic towards Harry's existence that sometimes Harry wondered if he even knew he existed. But Harry didn't care, he thought of other thoughts. He thought of how recently, he himself had grown taller. He thought of how he could make his green eyes piercing, and filled with an unearthly light. He thought of the controlled movements that he could use to make his body seem all the more lithe, muscled, and slim. He thought of how he moved on the Quidditch field, and how he could always make out the face of his professor, silently watching him on the sidelines. He thought of the little, mysterious smiles he gave to that professor, and the blushes he could draw out of his ghostly pale cheeks. Mostly he thought of that, and smiled.

Soon the bathtub was full, the bubbles in place, and Harry was ready to take his normal midnight bath. Wait, had he forgotten something? Strolling over to a small shelf on the other side of the spacious dungeon bathroom, his nude skin chilling in the breeze, Harry reached up and plucked down his novel, and at the same time, slid his pile of used clothes down the chute for the House Elves. Ahh, perfection at last. Harry walked back over and slid the novel to the other side of the tub, conjuring up something to hold it on top of the water.

As he worked on the spell, Harry heard the door to the baths open, and someone's steps echoing inside. A low tune was being whistled on the lips of this unknown visitor. Who was it? Didn't everyone go home for the Christmas holidays? Harry went on with his spell, conjuring a large, unpoppable bubble to support his book. He pushed it out to sea.

Suddenly something clattered behind him, the steps stopped, and with them, the whistling. A magazine tumbled to the floor, and Harry heard a rapid intake of breath. He turned around almost lazily and saw the back of Snapes' head. The man had braced himself against the stall to the lavatory!

"M-Mr. Potter! I didn't see you there.…What are you doing in here? It's well past midnight I, I thought everyone had gone home for the holidays!"

"Everyone had gone home for the holidays.…but I'm still here." Harry smirked as he turned around, perching on the end of the marble and crossing his legs. _Looks like you're here too._

"Yes well that's quite apparent then, isn't it?" Snape attempted to turn around. "For God's sake Potter, put on your clothes!" Snapealmost twitched as he shouted frantically. Quite like a small dog, Harry thought.

"Can't, already put them down the chute for the House Elves."

"Then, get in the bath or _something_, don't just sit there exposing your god-knows-what to the open air!"

" Ah, yes, my skin is full of pestilence, isn't it? So does this mean you're not going to claim seniority for the tub?" Harry tilted his head just a little, regarding the way the man's knuckles tightened over the sides of the metal stall.

"No I'm not going to claim seniority, that is a childish thing in any regard. I take showers anyhow." The Potion's Master seemed to have regained his composure- he stood up straighter and gave of the air of someone who was incredibly dignified but, forced into this position, was placed into undignified circumstances.

Harry smirked. "Ah," he said, "but do tell me, how does one read a magazine in the shower, hmm?" He looked down at the floor, noting how the magazine, haphazardly dropped, had landed closer to himself than to professor Snape. Snape visibly paled. " 'A Wizard's Delight'? Sound's interesting…." Harry got up, the noise of his feet padding on the floor making a definite echo around the room. Snape spoke clearing his throat.

"Well, I don't suppose I have to take my bath _now_….you just leave the magazine there and I'll get it when I leave…."

"No, it's quite alright, it sound's interesting….what's it about now? Cooking?" Harry picked it up idly.

"Yes, yes, it's about cooking. Now would you get in the tub Potter so I can get out of here!"

Harry ambled back to his old spot on the marble surface and began flipping pages. Desserts, soufflés, and pictures of happily cooking women greeted his eyes. "Oh please." He said in an annoyed voice. He closed the pages and turned back to the cover. "You quite like cooking Professor?" Harry smiled and picked up his wand from the edge of the tub.

"Yes I do Potter, I find that it relates to potions-making in a way, now give me back my magazine and get in the bathtub!"

"Finite-"

"Potter!"

"-Incantium!"

Harry watched before his eyes as the picture changed. Instead of a picture of a woman holding a pie it became a picture of a wizard, naked to the waist, holding his wand in one hand and his cape over his shoulder in the other. He looked up at Harry and winked, suggestively waving his wand. The title too changed.

"Professor! 'A Queer Wizard's Delight'? I never thought you had it," should he say it? ", in you!"

The Professor had paled tremendously. He said in a shaky voice, "It's not what it looks like.…"

"Oh I have no doubt that it's not. Holding on to it for a friend are you?" The Potion's Master's cheeks burned now. How very much he wanted to wring that boy's neck! "No really, I believe you….Now let's take a look shall we!"

_Oh no._ Shape thought. Harry started to read aloud.

" 'Six Different Ways to Obtain the Man You Love, Straight or Not! Page 66'"

"Potter…"

" ' Magical Cures for Magical Ailments!' Page 9. Now that would be useful, wouldn't it? Bit boring though. Here's one: 'Colors of the Rainbow! New Express pack contains seven different kinds of lube…' Oh and look, they're all a different flavor! Now _really!_"

"Potter!"

"Ah, here we go! 'Ask the Doctor!' 'The Doctor is in, so tell him you sin!' A bit like an Agony Aunt, I believe?"

"Harry!"

"Yes Professor?"

"_Please_ give me my magazine back!"

The statement rang out like a bell in the cavernous hall. Harry realized with a bit of sadness that his water was probably getting cold by now. He sighed.

"All right, all right….but I'll just have a look at this 'Doctor Waggs' business first. See what kind of problems are adrift in the world, you understand…." Harry looked down and returned to his flipping.

"No!" Snape yelled and turned around. "Don't you dare, you little brat, or I shall take fifty points from…from…" The words fell from Snapes mouth as he saw Harry, perched so quizzically on the edge of the marble tub, looking at him with a kind of bemused, awestruck innocence. That look was quickly gone as it fell way to a malicious glint in his eye. Snape whirled back around, his back towards Harry, and gripped one side of his face with a death grip. Embarrassment and something else burned painfully clear on his face. Though Harry couldn't see, he knew what he would find there.

"Alright Professor," He said keenly, " I won't read it to you. But I want you to promise me two things—"

"No!"

"Two things." He continued without missing a beat. "Number one— you won't ignore me anymore. Now or ever. You will look at me when I speak to you. No more of that 'looking at the ceiling' nonsense." Harry paused for a moment.

"Fine!" Snape growled. How he regretted coming in here! If only he could get his magazine back, knock the brat to the floor or something! If only he had brought his wand with him….Damn polish! Once a month! Once a fucking month!

"Two!" Harry almost yelled. His eyes seethed. "You will do one thing for me, one thing only! I will ask something of you, and you must do it! Just one favor Snape, anything I ask…." Snape clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth. "Nothing is worth that, are you out of your mind? An open-ended favor?"

"Fine with me," Harry said, " I want to read this anyway."

"Fine you bloody brat! Fine! I agree!" Harry slid into the tub and kneeled on the edge, propping his elbows up and bringing the magazine to rest in front of him.

"Good, and remember Snape, a Wizard's Word is his life! You can look now, by the way."

"I know that!" Snape turned around with a whoosh of his cape and stalked over to the now water-borne Harry. Harry spoke.

"Shake on it."

Their hands touched and Snape was surprised at how firm of a grip the young boy had. Well, as young as a older Seventh Year could be. Snape was reminded again of how old the boy was…seventeen. Still so young!

"Now give!" Severus Snape wrenched the magazine from the boy's hands and walked to the door. "And for your information, I am not gay!"

"Honestly Severus, who said you were?" Harry smiled as he propelled himself backwards in the tub, dunking his hair quickly in the water and looking at the far-away ceiling. So much space! "But really, I have two testaments that say otherwise." Harry looked up from his strokes and watched as Snape's hand went to the door, his other hand clutching the magazine to his side.

"Fine. What."

Harry smiled.

"The first one lies in your hand. The second, dear Severus, has risen between your legs."

Snape, with an furious toss of his head and a rather stiff walk, barreled out the door.

"Insufferable brat!"

Harry chuckled and reached for his book. The man really took life way too seriously. "Finite Incantium." He whispered. The book changed from "The Magical Art of Mind Fucking" (Which he really recommends you read, by the way) to " Stalking Darkness" by Lynn Flewelling.

_"Coming to the end of his tale, Alec rested his head wearily on Seregil's shoulder and drew another shuddering breath. "The worst of it— when Ashnazai killed you, tricked me into thinking he had— he said things—" Alec squeezed his eyes shut. "I thought you died believing I'd betrayed you."_

_Seregil stroked a strand of hair back from Alec's forehead and kissed him there. "It's all right, tali. If it really had been me, I wouldn't have believed him. I know you too well for that."_

"_And I never told you—" Alec's pale face flushed crimson. " I don't understand it, but I—"_

_He faltered and Seregil pulled him closer. "I know, tali, I know."_

_It was Alec that brought their lips together._

_Seregil's first reaction was disbelief. But Alec was insistent, clumsy but determined. I t lasted and instant, an eternity, that one awkward kiss, and it spoke volumes of bewildered honesty._

_The moment that followed was too fragile for words._

He's exhausted, confused. He's been tortured past the point of endurance, _Seregil warned himself, but for once, the doubts refused to take root._

_Mentor, brother, friend._

_Lover." ((Flewelling, 443-444))_

Harry sighed as he wiggled his toes in his very bubbly bath. Severus had no idea. No idea at all.

* * *

Fin

* * *

Oh, yeah. Author's notes… 

_Stalking Darkness_ is a real book. Lynn Flewelling is a real author. Tomatoes are a real food. I however, am not a real food…pity.

Quite good anyhow. The book I mean. And it's not all mushy-gushy romance either. It has necromancers (oo!) and theives (Ooo!) and a man named Nysander! (OOO!)

Seriously though, read it. And read the books that come before and after.

Bye now! Hope you liked it like I like cheesecake!

pppppp. sssssss.

Just cause I think u might need a citation if bringing forth any actual text from an actual book, here it is.

Work's Cited

Flewelling, Lynn. Stalking Darkness. New York: Bantam Books, 1997. 443- 444


	2. Chapter 15 The notquiteepilogue

Magazines and Bubbles

Chapter 1.5

Harry walked down the hallways merrily, almost skipping. The encounter last night was amazing, fantastic. He felt giddy from the inside out. The look on Severus's face! Oh that man could pull the most amazing looks! Harry laughed to himself as he remembered.

He had never of course planned for that encounter to go so smoothly, he had never planned for it to happen at all. He felt happy that it did happen though. Things taken care of, things known for sure. He could almost imagine the visage that would greet him come schooltime again in the Potion's classroom. He looked forward to that immensely.

He did not, however, look forward to the class itself. Ever since his fifth year, Potions had been getting more and more complicated. It reminded him from his years in Muggle school— the class was a combination of trigonometry, home economics, and a crash course in terrorism. But he didn't know which was worse; taking the class, or not.

On one hand, if he didn't take the class, his schedule would be free of the most complicated, homework-endowing hour known of in Hogwart's existence. He would have more free time, more time to do what he wanted, more time he could devote to flying. On the other hand, what was it he really wanted anyway? After all, an opportunity such as Advanced Potions for the Reasonably Sensible and Exceedingly Intelligent could not be scorned. It presented an ideal situation in which he could get to know…like minded people more closely.

Ah, but an explanation is needed, then isn't it? As the years accumulated over Harry's head, so the population of able-minded Potion's students decreased. The harder the lesson, the less people who could, or would, take the class. Thus one-on-one time was much increased.

_Quite substantially increased_, in fact. Harry delighted in nothing more than seeing his teacher squirm as he attempted to teach something one-on-one with Harry. Harry, of course being immensely interested, would lean so far over that his hair would be in danger of entering the cauldron! And who wouldn't be distracted by _that_?

But Harry had achieved his goal. Severus would now look him in the eye. He would not be ignored any longer. A hesitant, yet increasingly large smile crept onto Harry's face. And that one favor…he wondered when he would use it up? Perhaps soon? Tomorrow? Maybe not quite so soon. He had to wait, be patient. As the movie said, he had to "wait for the Opportune Moment."

As his destination lay presently ahead (the Astronomy Tower) Harry's mind slipped forth into that marvelous dimension of thought, that lush landscape of daydreams. Quiet songs sung in his head as he sat down to contemplate his life, his existence, his Severus. Quiet dreams of quieter things greeted him as he closed his eyes and laid his head against the stone wall. Life was good. Soon it would get better.

Soon.

Eepers! I was sooooo unsure of where to put this little piece of ficcy...didn't know whether to put it tail-end on here, give it it's own fic...put it as a beginning on the sort-of-sequel...hmm. So many desic...decis...decision-thingies.

much grrr-ness.

Anywho, hoped u liked it. I plan to have more. Much. Much. More.

Maybe. It's in the works...who knows? Aw, hell, the plans are there. Fuck it. Sev and Harry will have to do double time. Or double team. One or the other.

au revoir!

Beware the new AUTHOR'S NOTES! The mystical Voice from Above (me) proclaimith something new! Muahahahahahaha!

I hath made _manga!_

Ok…so not manga plural, par se, but rather _a _manga. Just one. And by that I mean one page. None of this "ooo, look at me I'm so special I made a whole book" manga, but " hey, wouldn't it be so much fun to do a manga of mag's and bubbles for our dear, dear Severus and Harry?" Yea, that manga. But I plan to do more.

But so far I have only one page.

One measly little page…

And I have NO IDEA where to post it!

AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOO! O dear me I think I'll turn into a balloon if I can't figure out where to post it! And then I can't post anymore! NOOOO! I don't want to be a ba-LLOOOOON!

oh pootie

Suggestions anyone?

Criteria: -nice place to post

yoai-friendly (well duh)

Harry-Potter oriented (again, duh)

Not completely devoted to NC-17 or R (I would rather keep this R or below, thank you)

Reaching a relativley wide audience (sorta like but with manga)

When in doubt get ur own page! If I can't find, or be recommended, a good site…I dunno, maybe I can get a geocites page er somethin. C'est possible, n'est pas?

Bon nuit! Et bonne 'review'!


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